Ian's Choice
by hbub1201
Summary: Ian finally wakes up after the events of 4.12. Mickey's there to help him find himself again! Rated M for language. May just be a one-shot, may be added to :)


"Whats wrong?"

The tears streamed down Ian's face as the red-headed boy clung to his knees and fought with himself to look to the ex-con sat beside him.

"Ian... Please..." Mickey begged. It's been weeks of nothing, no words, no movement, no eating or drinking. Just a comatose lump in his bed. Mickey had fought off his angry father, he's constantly battling his bitter and demanding wife, he struggles against his uncles and brothers, who's look range from disgusted to pitying whenever they so much as glance at the young Milkovich. He's battled with Fiona and Lip to keep Ian out of some miscellaneous psych ward. He's clashed with Kev over money he so desperately needs to make sure Ian the meds the doctor 'friend' of Mickey's prescribed, and over shifts he's got no time to work because between the baby and Ian he has too much to do and not enough time in world. He's even contended with Debbie and Carl, who wanted to take Ian back to the Gallaghers, and Vee, who wants to overlook everything involving Ian's diagnosis and medication. Mandy and him have rowed over Kenyatta still being in her life, him beating the crap out of the bigger man when he dared to raise a hand to Mandy whilst Mickey was in the house and he's brawled with just about every punter in the Alibi to make sure everyone pays what they owe from now on. He even had a run in with Linda she made, an innocent albeit misguided, comment about Ian's running away so soon after Kash.

Weeks of endless struggle for no reward, nothing but second guessing and self-doubt. Perhaps the biggest battle he's been fighting is the one with himself. Was he being selfish wanting Ian with him, stupid for thinking he knew what was best for the red-head? But he kept going on because he knew one thing for certain, if anyone would move mountains for Ian, do everything possible to take care of him and get him better, it wasn't some underpaid and overworked nurse. It wasn't his caring but busy family or his exhausted neighbours. It wasn't his lonely best friend. No, it was Mickey. He knew that like he knew how to breathe so he kept doing all he had to do and then today he came home to the most amazing thing he'd seen in so long. Ian was sitting up.

Such a small thing had Mickey's breath leave him in an instant. His chest seized and his heart flipped, he felt like he's been sucker punched in the gut, but it was the best feeling in the world because Ian was turning his head to look at him, a few more seconds and he'd finally see those glowing green eyes again...

And then there they were, the second they hit Mickey's own blue orbs, bright with anxious energy, the tears started flowing uncontrollably and Ian pulled his legs to his chest and has been gripping them ever since. Not coming up for air, not looking at Mickey, not saying a word. Just an endless stream of tears.

Mickey darted to Ian's side immediately, first just silently trying to comfort him, then whispering that it would be OK as delicately as was possible for an ex-con with threats tattooed on his knuckled and violence in-built in his psyche. When that didn't work either he tried to ask what was wrong, what he could do to help, who Ian needed to make things OK.

Now... Now he was pleading.

"Ian... I don't know what to do..." Tears were stinging at Mickey's own eyes, he was struggling to keep it together, to be strong for the man he loved so god damn much. But he was desperate and scared and tired and he just wanted to know how to get his best friend, his partner, back.

Ian took several deep and sobering breaths, inhaling and exhaling purposefully. Then, with his still watering eyes closed tightly, he slowly turned his head to look at the devoted boy beside him. Mickey was rubbing one hand across his eyes, head downturned and legs folded in front of him. His other hand was resting on the bed between the two frantic boys. Ian pursed his lips to hold in a whimper, as he opened his eyes to a fresh bout of tears and took in the sight of the man he had spent so much time falling for.

He looked down to the other boys hand on the sheets and ached to just reach out and touch it, but he couldn't. He was ice, he was a statue, against his will he was stuck. He bellowed out a frustrated, if hoarse and mewling, sort of scream, then scrubbed his hands over his face.

"I..."

The sound, so slight, so unsure and so breakable. So perfect and pure, music to Mickey's ears. A marching band couldn't have stopped Mickey from hearing that one quiet sound. Ian exhaled again and turned back to Mickey, shivering with pent up anger and frustration and deep, demanding need.

"I don't..."

He stuttered and shook, clenching and unclenching his hands.

"It's OK," Mickey said quickly, placing his hands on his boyfriend. One gripping his shoulder, the other gripping his arm. "It doesn't matter," Mickey promised firmly. "It's OK Ian...

Fuck... Just... It's OK..."

"No..." Ian closed his eyes and shuddered, hoping against hope that Mickey wouldn't remove his hands. "You..." Ian growled, turning to his lover and opening his eyes. trying to convey how serious, how genuine he was when he said that.

"What?" Mickey dared to ask back, not hoping for an answer, just, wishing for something to show him that somehow he was still what Ian wanted.

"It's you Mick," Ian rushed to say, still not able to loosen his grip on his own legs, needing to be grounded so he could get the words, any words, out.

Mickey gasped and dared a split second of a smile, he pressed his forehead against Ian's and bit his lower lip, trying relentlessly to stop the quiver that threatened to take over it.

"I need you Mick," Ian gasped out some more, words seemingly able to spill from him now he broken whatever invisible barrier had kept them locked in for 14 long and painful days. "I want to stay here... I want you... God Mick, please..." Ian begged.

Mickey wanted to give Ian everything he was asking for, he wanted to make it all OK, he just didn't know yet how, what Ian was asking for.

"Gotta help me out here Firecrotch," Mickey laughed back, trying to lighten the mood somehow, ease some of the tension encapsulating Ian's body.

Ian cried into Mickey's shoulder, gasping for breath and fighting for control.

"It doesn't feel like it was me..." He sobbed.

"Ssh, Ian... What doesn't?"

"Any of it," the red-head wailed.

Ian tapped his head against the bone of Mickey's shoulder, biting his lips as he tried to find the words. Mickey was frozen, he didn't know how to react. He didn't want to rush

Ian, or frustrate him more, push him to say more than he was ready to. But at the same time, he wanted to comfort the younger man. He wanted him to know it would be OK, no matter how long it took.

"Ian..." Mickey said gently, he raised his hand to brace against Ian's cheek and slowly pulled his face straight, arching his neck to look into the eyes he was still so achingly pleased to be able to look into again. "It's alright, OK?" Mickey adjusted his position, moving to kneel on the bed in front of the young Gallagher. "Calm down, Ian... Please."

"It doesn't feel real Mickey!" Ian continued to cry. His broken voice ripping at Mickey's insides and tearing him to shreds.

"Ian..." He begged, unsure of what he was even begging for.

"I just want you..." Ian wheezed, closing his eyes and leaning his head heavier against Mickey.

"What?" Mickey asked, shock and confusion filling his mind. "You got me, Gallagher, you know that!"

Ian just rocked backwards and forwards, sobbing to himself and refusing to look up again, shaking his head fiercely and mumbling the same word over and over again... "No."

"Ian," Mickey commanded now, "I'm fucking here, OK?" He tried to keep the sobs out of his voice but he was too far gone. "Ian, you got me, always have had, you fucking know that... Ian, what can I do?" He was breaking a part again, he thought he'd proven himself already. Thought he'd finally done that right.

Ian was silent again. Deadly silent, even the muffled sobs were steady now, slowing to hushed sort of moan that had Mickey scared it was all coming to an end again.

"God dammit Ian, what do I have to do?" Mickey grabbed both of Ian's shoulder and lowered his head to look into the other boys closed eyes.

Ian just shook his head.

"I came out Ian," Mickey's breathing was out of control, his pulse was rapid and his whole body was screaming. "I went to that god damn loft party and i watched you getting groped and rubbed up against, I came out to my entire family Ian, I chose you... I chose you!"

Ian cried louder. Rocking aggressively back and forth and still gripping his eyes closed. "I'm fighting everyone to keep you here Ian, I got your brothers and sisters up my ass to get you to a hospital or get you back home. I got Kev and his fucking woman breathing down my neck wherever I turn and I'm getting shit from my whore wife about having you here. But you are here, and I aint letting go. Not now, not ever! So what more have I got to do?" The tears were flowing freely between the pair now. Ian crying and Mickey having given up trying not to.

"It's not real," Ian mumbled. "Mick..."

The ex-con growled and raised his head to stare bewilderingly at the ceiling. He shifted his weight to stand and compose himself when Ian panicked at the potential loss of contact and grabbed on to Mickey's forearms. He held tightly and shouted "No!", gripping onto his lover like a lifeline.

Mickey just stared at the frustrated boy in front of him, not daring to move or speak or even blink, for fear of missing something important.

"It wasn't real," Ian stuttered, grasping around for words and security alike. "I know it was, I know it happened, I remember it all!" He explained with a pained expression plastered onto his face. "But it doesn't feel like I was even there."

Agony, that's what Mickey felt. Agony at having just been told that the happiest time in his life, with the person who means the most to him in the world... Was what? Was nothing? May as well have been nothing if Ian didn't even feel like it happened.

But Ian ploughed on before Mickey could react.

"It was everything I ever wanted. Everything I wanted to do!" Ian looked straight into Mickey's eyes and held his gaze for the first time in a fortnight. "Mickey, I was fucked up, you saw it, I remember you asking what was wrong... Well at the time nothing was, but now it's like I'm finally seeing it all... And I'm jealous Mick... I'm jealous of myself!" The tears were streaming down his cheeks but Ian didn't look away from his lover. "I'm jealous because that guy, that fucked up, broken me... He got to do all the things I've always wanted to do, he got you Mick... And I want you... So badly... But I'm fucking broken and... Jesus, I can't even remember what it felt like... Kissing you, holding you, being held by-"

Mickey kissed him then, wrapped his arms around the taller man and pulled him so close that there was no part of their upper bodies not touching. He had one arm around his waist and the other gripped behind his head and he kissed him with everything he had. Ian immediately kissed back, completely lost in the sensation, the broken world around them forgotten entirely as they enveloped each other finally. The kiss was so easy, so natural and honest, but at the same time it was frantic and fierce and so, so perfect.

Neither boy wanted to end it, they didn't want to come up for air or open themselves back to reality. Not when here, in this moment, they only had to live for each other. Ian was gripping Mickey's neck, his other arm around the shorter mans shoulders. He was squeezing with everything he had. The kiss was their longest yet, as innocent as it was forceful, as longing as it was fulfilled.

When the need for oxygen finally won out Mickey pulled back from a reluctant Ian, only to crash against him again in a bruising embrace. He held Ian as close and as hard as possible, just breathing him in for a moment before he whispered, none too delicately in his ear. "It was you!" Mickey proclaimed. "Even fucked up you is still you Gallagher."

"You got me!" He spoke louder now, as he drew himself back from Ian, still gripping his shoulders at arms length so he could make sure Ian looked into his eyes and believed every word of what he was saying. "Every single fucked up part of you has me Gallagher, everything you fucking remember... It happened... It happened because WE wanted it to and it'll happen again... You got me and I got you, and I'll be damned if we got through all that shit we went through only to break apart now! I aint losing you again Ian... I can't!" The last part was as much pleading as it was commanding. "I fucking love you, you asshole!"

Ian felt the most alive he had in years, he was instantly winded and rejuvenated all at once. He felt the air leave his body whilst the blood pumped rapidly through his veins, he felt the world come to life again, and the flame reignite inside of him.

"You never said that before..." He mumbled, still in a euphoric daze, smile slowly creeping onto his face.

"Didn't think I would be able to," the dark-haired boy admitted. "Didn't know if you'd wan-"

"I love you so fucking much Mickey!" Ian all but shouted, throwing his arms around the other man with a strength that had been missing from him for so very long, even before his bipolar surfaced.

The tear re-emerged from Mickey's fire struck eyes, hearing those words, words he'd never heard before. Not from family or friends, lovers or parents, not even from Mandy. He'd always just assumed the words didn't apply to him, who could love him after all. A faggot, a thug, dirty white trash waste of space, a fucking Milkovich. He wasn't designed to be loved, he was bred to fight and steal and compete. And yet here he was, being told those words, being told he was loved, by the only person he'd ever said those words to himself, by the only person he'd ever loved.

"Christ," Mickey drawled, wiping his eyes while he still clung on to the other man, "Look what you've fucking turned me into man!"

The two boys huffed out a short, exhausted laugh before closing their eyes and leaning into the hug for a brief moment before pulling a part again.

"I wanna be here," Ian said immediately into the quiet that threatened to linger around them. "I know they think I should be with them, or... Or at some hospital... But I wanna stay here Mick! I'll keep taking the meds, I'll start talking to that doctor guy you bring over sometimes, I'll do whatever it takes but I gotta stay here Mick. So long as you're here, this is home." Ian didn't bother hiding from his words, he was proud of them, proud of how try they were, proud of the relief that washed over Mickey at hearing them. Then Ian leaned in and kissed the man he loved and finally, finally, felt complete.

* * *

"Ian, you're going through something very complicated..." Fiona tried to keep her words peaceful and protest free. After Ian and Mickey had reacquainted themselves with each other, after they spoke about everything that needed to be addressed and held each other long enough for them both to believe it was real. After they had finally decided to let the rest of the world exist for them again because no matter what it threw at them they'd be able to overcome it, Mickey had managed to get Ian to eat and drink and wash whilst he rang Fiona to let her know what was going on.

He told her not to come round until tomorrow but of course not even an hour later the whole Gallagher tribe were bursting through his front door demanding to see their brother.

"I'm not confused Fi," Ian said resolutely. He was tired, exhausted actually, and emotionally drained. OK, so he was a bit confused, it was a lot to take in, the bipolar, the meds, the implications of it all, but he wasn't confused about this... "I'm not leaving here, I'm not leaving Mickey."

"No ones asking you to leave him little brother, just come home," Lip furthered just as carefully.

"This is my home now, as long as Mickey's here then so am I."

"Ian, I understand-"

"No you don't Fiona, none of you do, how can you?" The red-head shot up from his seat and turned to address the room so he only had to say this once. "You think I shoulda gone to a hospital?" When Fiona sighed her confirmation Ian just nodded his head, "You think I should be at home with you guys?" He said to Lip, his older brother shrugged his shoulder like this was the most obvious thing in the world. "Maybe you're right, either of you, technically speaking. But I don't wanna be just a name on some bloody clipboard Fi, some anonymous mouth to feed and figure to run. If there is anything that could make this shit worse it's being in a place like that where I'm not even a person, just a used up bed or a bleak statistic." He raised his hand when Fiona tried to explain herself, "I know you want that best for me and you want me to get the help I need, and I will, I promise... But that aint it. And neither's your place, I love you all so much but you wanna know the reason I got through the last two weeks?"

"Enlighten us," Lip scoffed, already knowing the gist of the answer.

Ian rolled his eyes and pointed to the man sat between him and his disbelieving family. "He is," he said firmly. "I know you think that's just some overly poetic bullshit or something but the truth is the only light at the end of the tunnel when I couldn't get out of that bed was knowing that Mickey was still there and fighting for me! I heard it all," he explained. "I heard every time one of you tried to take me away and every time he fought for me to stay and it was what made me feel like things would be OK. Having him there, knowing that when I came out the other side he'd still be there... That was my reason to keep trying. When I was at my bleakest, telling you all to fuck off, it would have been so easy to just end it all... And god knows I thought about," Ian looked around the horrified faces in front of him and let slip an overly tired smile. "But then he'd come back into the room, even though I'd pushed him away. He'd come back and he'd sit down and I knew he was looking at me even though he didn't say anything, sometimes he didn't even touch me. But he always came back and so I couldn't end it because I had to come back for him too!"

"That's very romantic..." Lip drawled.

"Lip listen"

"No, Ian, you fucking listen. You think he was being selfless, doing all that shit for you? That wasn't about you! He wanted to here because it made him feel better, he did it for himself!"

"Good!" Ian shouted loudly, so the world could hear. "You still don't get it so you?" He waved his hand at his older brother then pointed straight to Mickey. "He's got to be selfish where I'm concerned, ya know why? Because whats best for him IS whats best for me! He is everything to me! Him being selfish or selfless, it doesn't matter, it all amounts to the same god damn thing!"

"Ian..."

"NO! He may have been doing it for himself but it was also what I wanted, all that I wanted! So as long as he keeps being selfish, and I keep being selfish... then we'll be fucking fine, and we'll be fucking together... And either you get used to it or..."

"Or what?" Lip asked incredulously.

"Or you miss out on the most important moments of my life because I plan to spend each and every one of them with him! I love you Lip, I always will, but you're wrong about this and I'm too fucking tired to argue right now so you're just gonna have to accept my decision and figure out how to deal with it."

With that Ian walked slowly forward, hugging each of his siblings in turn before turning to Mickey and saying soft that he needs to lay down for a while. He said his goodbyes with a smile and a promise to see them all tomorrow, out of bed and full of energy. His voice was hollow and hoarse from under-, and the over, -use, his body was aching and stiff and his eyes hurt from trying to keep everything in focus for the first time in weeks. But one brush of Mickey's arm as he walked past, one brief touch of their hands, and Ian was smiling wide and beautiful as he walked toward their bedroom, knowing Mickey would make his excuses and follow soon after. Grateful for knowing this because he still couldn't bear the thought of being away from Mickey for any amount of time, not matter how brief. Once he'd retreated into the bedroom Mickey turned to Gallagher family and put his hand up to halt any of them speaking.

"We're taking care of him together, just like I said before. He's staying here 'cause its where he wants to be, and I'm gonna do every fucking thing I can do to make sure he's OK. You don't have to like it, but if you got a problem then that doors always fucking open for you to drop by, but you aint taking him away, you aint putting no more pressure on him. You come here to help and support him or you don't come here at all!"

Mickey turned to follow after his soul mate into the bedroom when he was stopped in his tracks by Debbie Gallagher rushing to him and tapping his shoulder. He turned slowly and looked down at the younger girl.

"Thank you!" Was all she said before turning on her heel and helping Carl drag Fiona and Lip out of the house, Liam draped around the eldest woman's waist.

Mickey shook his head and smiled disbelievingly as he resumed his journey back to the warmth of his bed and its, now awoken, other occupant.


End file.
